


Valentine's Day

by DaniPayson



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 19:38:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17793497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniPayson/pseuds/DaniPayson
Summary: Taking place a few weeks after I Want to Believe, Dana Scully is scheduled to present at a neurology conference in New York City on the most romantic day of the year.





	Valentine's Day

“But it’s Valentine’s Day!” Mulder whined in that high pitch tone of a pre-teen boy whose voice hadn’t completely changed yet.  
“I’m well aware of the date.” I replied returning from the closet with my grey polyester skirt and black silk blouse, “And its just a two-day conference. I’ll be back on Friday.”  
“That’s the fifteenth.”  
I could feel my eyes rolling into the back of my head as the human calendar continued to whine about me missing a made-up holiday, “Last year all we did was stay in bed anyway.”  
“There was chocolate involved.”  
“And an entire bedding set which had to be thrown out.”  
“Worth it.” He smirked clearly reveling in the memories as he stood by the doorway of the closet.  
“At least on Friday the chocolate is half off and then we have the weekend.”  
He shook his head like a petulant child “Not the same.”  
Sighing I hung the clothing in the garment back then turned and looked up at him, “then come with me.”  
“To New York City.”  
“Yes. That IS where I will be and you are free to travel.”  
“That is if they didn’t lie. They do that.”  
“Yes, they do, but seriously. It is an option. Or you could take the train.”  
“I prefer our tradition.”  
“Of just staying in bed and finding creative uses for melted chocolate?”  
“We used dark chocolate last year….this year…maybe white.”  
“New York has chocolate.”  
He shook his head and turned his gaze to the hard wood floor, “Not the same.”  
“Well, my flight is at eight, the cab will be here at six…that’s twelve hours from now…we do have chocolate somewhere in the house.”  
“Not the same.” He repeated in the same defeated tone.  
Giving up, I zipped up in the bag and sighed, “I PROMISE to make it up to you.”  
He nodded, but continued to stare at the floor.  
Sometimes it felt like I was living with a child; a forty-six-year-old child.  
The alarm went off at five and the lump to my left never moved.  
I was done with my shower by five-fifteen.  
Still no movement.  
Coffee made, yogurt cup tossed in purse and the cab honking at 6:02AM and either he was that exhausted or he was that angry. It was hard to tell with him these days. After standing by the bed holding my bag until the cab honked one last time at 6:05AM I gave up and left the house.  
I arrived at the Hilton in midtown by noon on February 13th. The conference didn’t start until the next morning at 10AM and I was not scheduled to present until around two. This was the first year I was asked to speak so there was no way I could not attend. Even if it Valentine’s day.  
Thankfully, I was able to check in early and the large king-sized bed actually sent an ache through my heart. The conference was one damn day. Just one. And it wasn’t even the entire day. All he had to do was get on a plane or a train or just drive five hours. It’s not like he had to hide anymore. Sometimes I wonder if he just now preferred the hermit lifestyle.  
I tried calling his useless Motorola flip phone and only got voicemail. I could have left a message but if he was in sulk mode it would be pointless. This was, honestly, the first Valentine’s Day since our escape from public life where we wouldn’t be together and it bothered me as much as bothered him, but I also knew we would have many more to look forward to. Together.  
Dr. Johansen invited me to dinner. I declined. I kept my personal life personal so no one knew I was involved let alone had been living with a man for the last six years. Almost six. Given I worked in a catholic hospital I assumed I would not be exposed to the dating world, but that day I walked into on a nurse and an oncologist in the supply room I learned I was naive in my thinking.  
I tried calling, again, at five and the call immediately went to voicemail without even ringing which meant he had turned the phone off his childish temper tantrum. Tossing my blackberry in the nightstand I gave up on trying to make contact and headed towards the hotel bar.

“Dana, we’ve known each other for two years. I’ve never heard you mention anyone in your life or dating in general. All I am asking is for one dinner. Just one.” Daniel Johansen was in his late thirties, he was attractive – like a real-life Ken doll - and we had a lot in common. Well, for what he knew about me we had a lot in common in our love for Twizlers and dark chocolate. Chocolate. Now just thinking about it sent a pain through my heart.  
“Dan, you need to stop wasting your energy on me. It’s not going to happen.”  
“But why? I’ve never even heard you mention going home to a cat. The solitary life is not good for anyone.” The neurologist pleaded with me as I focused my attention on my almost empty glass of cabernet.   
“Just because I don’t publicly talk about my life doesn’t not mean it’s a solitary existence.” I replied motioning the bartender for a refill.  
“So, are you saying you have some guy stashed in a basement?”  
I shrugged at the comment, but didn’t reply.  
“Maybe she’s saying it’s none of your business.”   
The voice which came from the other side of Dan sent shivers down my spine. Had I already had so much to drink that I was hearing voices? I was so unsure I was afraid to even lean back or forward to look.  
“Maybe our conversation is none of your business.” Dan replied, his voice much higher and angrier than I had ever heard it.  
The bartender was filling my glass as I slowly leaned forward to see the familiar left hand of the man, I left in Virginia, holding onto a glass of what I assumed to be. Straight.   
I could have said something. I could have said anything. But I was very much interested in where this conversation would lead. As much as I didn’t want to be, outed, I also wanted Dan to realize I was not on the market.  
And I never would be   
“Well, you are kind of making it my business.” Mulder replied as I picked up my glass.  
“And how is that?” Dan asked incredulously.  
“She’s my wife.”  
And there he went.   
As the cabernet slid down my throat, I slowly placed the glass back on the bar.  
Dan’s eyes turned back to me as I really wasn’t sure how to reply. Legally…no…but it sounded better than boyfriend, lover – gag- or even partner did…now.  
“Dana…” Dan said, “Who is this guy?”  
All I could do was shrug.  
Dan turned back to Mulder, clearly not believing him, “I don’t believe you.”  
Mulder chuckled, “You can believe what you want…but only one of us knows what she looks like naked.”  
I nearly spit out my drink as I slammed my left hand on the bar. “Stop it!”  
He chuckled louder as he took another sip of his scotch and Dan in his own annoyance placed a twenty on the bar and stood up, “See you at the conference.” He said to me before storming off.  
Mulder waited maybe ten seconds before he moved to Dan’s vacant seat, sliding Andrew Jackson and Dan’s empty glass to the edge of the bar. Given I was now a combination of extremely furious and incredibly happy I wasn’t sure how to reply to him, but I could also feel Dan’s eyes on me from behind the two of us as we sat at the bar; clearly, he didn’t trust this strange man beside me.  
“He’s still here. Watching us.” I said placing my glass back on the bar.  
“Are you saying he doesn’t believe I am who I said I am?”  
“But you aren’t. We aren’t married.”  
“Common law is five years.”  
“Not in Virginia.”  
“Semantics.” Mulder turned and looked behind me “Yup. He’s by the door pretending to talk on his phone. Maybe he’s calling the cops to have me dragged out of here.”  
“Dan wouldn’t do that.”  
“Dan, huh?”  
Sighing deeply and loudly I turned and motioned for Dan to come over to us. After placing his phone back in his pocket, Dan walked back over to the bar.  
“Dr. Daniel Johansen, I’d like to introduce you to Fox Mulder.”  
Mulder smiled and extended his right had in front of me as a way to initiate a shake but maybe also to claim me as his. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of this as I looked down at his outstretched forearm.  
“Your husband?” Dan asked in a very questioning tone.  
“No.” I replied quickly. Maybe too quickly.  
“Not for lack of asking.” Mulder replied.  
Dan finally shook his hand quickly before releasing his grip and pulling away.   
“But he’s also not locked up in my basement either.” I added.  
“Only when I am really, really bad.” I could feel the smirk on his face and I had never wanted to smack him more in my life, but instead I gritted my teeth and forced a smile.  
“I understand why you never mentioned him until now.” Dan said giving me a sort of ‘I really feel sorry for you’ type of smile and finishing with “I’ll see you at the conference tomorrow.”   
This time we both watched as he actually left the hotel bar and I could finally relax with the exception of knowing that Dan now knew about Mulder. Maybe it was a good thing and he would actually stop hitting on me. Only time would tell.  
“How long were you sitting there?” I asked not actually looking at the man beside me.  
“Long enough.” He replied taking a long swig of his drink, “Have you really never mentioned me in the two years you’ve worked at that hospital?”  
“Well, given you’ve been hiding from the government up until last month I would have to honestly say I felt it best not to mention the fugitive I live with.”  
Mulder shrugged and placed his empty glass on the bar, “I get it. I think.”  
“Anyway, when did you decide to come?”  
“Last night. I booked a flight that left a couple hours after yours did. Didn’t tell you just in case I was apprehended at the airport.”  
“Clearly you weren’t.”  
“Nope. Not a hiccup. Guess they didn’t lie to me. For once.”  
“Well, in any event, I’m glad you’re here.” I said finally looking at him and smiling. A true, genuine, happy smile.  
“Me too.” He smiled in return, “So, what’s on the agenda?”  
“Nothing until tomorrow. I’m sure many people spent today sightseeing, but I’ve personally seen enough of this city for a lifetime.”  
Mulder nodded, “So, then, what’s on your agenda?”  
I felt my smile widen as I also felt the wine go to my head, “Well, you know what wine does to me?”  
“Yes, that’s why I never let us run out at the house.”  
Smiling to the point where I felt my face would crack in half, I let out a tiny girlish giggle I never even knew existed and pulled the room keycard out of my pocket, “Tenth floor.”  
Mulder nodded and pulled his wallet out of his pocket, placing two twenties next to Dan’s one. “I really hope this place has fast elevators.”  
“They do.”  
As we internally cursed every other guest who got on the elevator and pressed five or seven or eight, I felt like tike a walking, talking version of ants in the pants as the wine took a direct path south of my brain. Finally, after what felt like hours, we got to the tenth floor and I rushed to room 1013 and the connection didn’t even occur to me until Mulder let out a very loud guffaw.  
“Seriously! 1013!” He nearly screamed.  
“What!” I yelled back as I fought with the keycard begging the two lights to turn green.  
“Come on!” he said almost pitifully as the lights finally turned that bright lime color.  
“Yes.” I pulled the door handle down before nearly kicking the door open, “It’s your birthday. I just didn’t make the connection until now.”  
“At least you didn’t forget…” he said following me into the room as he allowed the door to slam loudly behind him.  
“So, what about dinner.” Mulder said picking up the room service menu from the desk as I turned on the small lamp by the be “Twenty bucks for a Cesar salad.”  
“That’s a bargain in Manhattan.” I replied grabbing in the menu out of hand, “Are you seriously thinking about food now?”  
“I need my strength.”  
“No, you don’t.” I replied taking hold of the waistband of his jeans and walking backwards to the bed as I pulled him with me.  
After the back of my thighs hit the bed, he moved his hands to the edges of my waist, gripping tightly as he lifted me into a standing position on the bed, where I was then forced to let go of his black t-shirt while looking down at him.  
Placing my hands on the sides of his face I found myself just lost in his eyes. Sadness began to come over me, “What are you going to do now?” I asked him.  
“Well, we’ve rehearsed this a few times…”  
“That’s not what I mean.” I replied lowering myself onto my knees so we were now face to face, “With your life. You don’t have to hide anymore.”  
“I’ll think of something.” He said returning his hands to my waist, “I’m pretty content right now.”  
“But what if I’m not enough for you?”  
“You were always enough for me.”  
Even though the wine was already wearing off, I was still determined to follow through with my original plans for the evening. My hands slowly moved from his face down his chest and back to the waistline of his jeans, my pace quickening as I unbuttoned and unzipped the denim, before placing my right hand under the fabric and taking hold of what was already beginning to harder under my fingers. My gaze moved upwards as Mulder closed his eyes and placed his hands on my head, waiting for me to continue the act.  
In all honesty it had been over a month since we were together. Between patients and rounds and the whole FBI returning to our lives, I hadn’t really been in that place. But now that everything had been settled, that the patient who I had put all others aside for was now recovering in his own bed I could focus on my needs. And Mulder’s needs and as I slowly took him in my mouth and as the all too familiar groan escaped his lips, I felt we would both climax in that instant. My own moans became louder as I took him in as far as I could. The tip of his cock teasing the back of my throat as circled my tongue around the shaft. My eyes closed as my pace quickened and I felt his nails dig into my skull and another much louder groan as he climaxed.  
Without saying a word, I looked up at him as I brought my hands to the hem of my navy-blue cashmere sweater, pulling it off in one quick motion and tossing it across the room. He did the same with his grey sweater. Sitting up on my knees again I began to unbutton my black slacks as he brought his hand to my neck pulling me closer to him as his lips touched mine and he crawled onto the bed as his tongue parted my lips and he slowly pushed me down onto the bed. The kiss deepened as his hands moved to my front clasped bra, unsnapping it as he straddled my body with his own. My nipples hardening under his palms as I ached under the lightweight woven blend of my Ann Taylor pants. My back arched and I screamed out his name as his lips moved from mine to my breasts and I begged for him to fuck me. He wanted me to beg and he knew how much I knew it turned him on, but it had been so very long that I just needed him inside of me. At this point I didn’t even care about the speech I really wasn’t sure was finished, or the fact I hadn’t eaten since the plane, I just wanted him to pleasure me the way only he could and to have my toes curl until they came close to breaking.  
He sat up and moved his hands to my slacks, I arched my hips as he slid the barrier off of my body, tossing them in the same direction as our other clothing. The panties followed suit and I closed my eyes and as I felt his hands on my knees, hoping the next thing I would feel was his cock inside of me.   
An exasperated moan left my lips as I felt his tongue touch my clit. My hands instinctively moving to his head, my fingernails digging into his skull as his tongue teased and pleased. As much as I needed to have him inside of me, he knew best. He knew how to bring me so close to the edge and then make me wait. Make me beg. He could do this for hours, and he had, but as my pleas became louder, I opened my eyes to see his face above mine, his lips returning to mine as I felt him slowly enter me. Bringing my hands to his behind, I pulled him closer, pushing him deeper until he finally started what I had been begging for. Faster, harder, all the traditional cries of need escaped my lips as his own moved to my neck, his pace quickening as I felt his teeth bite down on my delicate skin, a scream of arousal and pain emanating from me as my nails dug into his back and he pushed deeper than I thought possible and with that a sensation of pleasure coursed through my body and his own cries of release began to drown out mine until he collapsed on top of me.  
The tingles continued throughout my body much longer than I anticipated and by the time they stopped the weight on top of me rolled over onto his back, his eyes focused on the ceiling as he tried to control his breathing.  
“I don’t know about you…” he said before turning to look at me, “But I could really use that twenty-dollar salad now.”  
After our overpriced dinner and more wine, which lead to more …gratification… we were out by nine, but I awakened in my own personal panic mode at three am.  
My legs weak from too much ‘exercise’ I wobbled to the bathroom and turned on the light. My hair resembling that of auburn-haired Medusa and not one but two patches of discoloration on my ivory neck. I hadn’t had such a declaration of primal lust since Ryan Matthews in my junior year of high school, so being an almost forty-four-year-old woman with hickeys felt more than a little pathetic. I just hoped I had enough concealer with me as I didn’t even think to pack a turtleneck.  
Putting on the hotel robe, I returned to the main room and dug into my purse looking for my speech and sitting down at the desk I turned on the light to make sure it actually made sense.  
“It’s three am.” A tired voice whimpered behind me.   
“Go back to sleep.” I whispered back, “I’m just double checking something.”  
“I’m sure your speech is fine.”   
“How do you know what I’m checking?”  
“Because you were rambling about stem cells in your sleep. Please. Just come back to bed.”   
Given my presentation wasn’t until two he was right and I turned off the light, removed the robe and crawled back into the warm bed, my head resting on my common law husband’s bare chest.  
I woke up to the sound of whispering, and the door closing and my eyes opened to find myself naked and alone.  
“Mulder?” I started to wonder if the previous day was just a dream but as my eyes focused, I watched him walking towards me wearing the hotel robe, tray in hand and the smell of pancakes wafting throughout the room.  
“What is this?” I asked sitting up as he sat on the edge of the bed, placing the tray in front of me. Pancakes in the shape of hearts, along with the tab of butter on top of them and cut strawberries surrounding the floury goodness.  
“Seriously?” I couldn’t help but almost laugh at the cheesiness of this, but also had to appreciate what he had done as well.  
“Apparently they are used getting this request.” He smiled back at me.  
I picked up the champagne flute also on the tray, “Mimosa?”  
“Your speech isn’t for six hours. You’re fine.”  
“I may need more than a mimosa before the speech.” I said picking up the glass and downing the sweet and bubbly liquid quicker than Mulder expected me to, “I’ve testified before congress, but making a speech about my successful work with stem cells terrifies the hell out of me.”  
“But just the fact they asked you to make said speech proves they believe in the science and you.”  
Flattered, I picked up a strawberry and placed it in Mulder’s open mouth before giving him a quick kiss on the lips. “So, what are you going to do while I’m at the conference all day?”  
“Oh, you mean I’m not invited to the let’s discuss brain diseases party?”  
“Well, you can come…but I assumed you’d rather not.”  
“You assumed right and it’s New York City. I will find something to pass my time.”  
“Well, just keep your phone on in case I need to escape.”  
“Will do.”

Four layers of Cover Girl concealer and I felt I could be around others without people looking at me like I was some kind of horny teenager. My table consisted of neurologists from England and Spain, along with Dr. Johansen who didn’t arrive until after noon, but at least he was no longer looking at me like prey.  
Ignoring the presentation on Encephalopathy, I focused on my note cards and made sure my blackberry was fully charged as I waited to be called up.   
A quarter till two I heard my name and made my way to the stage. Now wishing I had more than a mimosa and a quickie six hours earlier.  
The laptop before me was already dialed in and the name Our Lady of Sorrows was displayed on the screen behind me. Dozens of eyes upon me I took a deep breath and gripped the podium.  
“Stem cells.” I said into the microphone, my voice echoing throughout the room. “Controversial? Maybe. Lifesaving? Definitely.”  
I wasn’t sure what had happened, but I didn’t even have to look at the words on the cards before me as they just continued to come out.   
“I present to you Christian Fearon. Christian suffered from lysosomal storage illness, a type two degenerative brain disease similar to Sandhoff disease, for which there is no treatment. I consulted with many other physicians who all came to the same diagnosis…. that in time the neurons in his brain and spine would be progressively destroyed and he would die a slow and painful death.”  
The room became quiet as a photo of Christian two months earlier was flashed on the screen. In his hospital bed, all smiles, as if everything in the world was perfectly fine. Seeing his face now, remembering everything the boy had gone through just sent me back to that painful time and I couldn’t stop the tears that began to fall and as I looked to the crowd in front of me, I noticed a familiar face standing in the back, against the wall. As I wiped the tears away, with his arms crossed a smile came across his face and Mulder mouthed “Go on.”  
“A long time ago I met a man…” I began to go off script but I didn’t care, “A man many thought was crazy, maybe even, spooky, but this man believed. He believed in a lot of things, but most of all he believed in me and with the strengths of his belief I learned to believe in myself. To not give up. I would not give up on Christian. Working for a Catholic hospital I expected a lot of push back when I brought up the ideas of stem cell therapy, from the administration and from Christian’s parents, but after a lot of research I knew it was my only option and after a lot of convincing the Fearons understood how much I wanted to save their son.”  
Going to the laptop I opened Skype and dialed in. After less than a minute Christian’s adorable smiling face appeared on the screen before me and behind me from his own bed with a jade green scarf wrapped around his head.  
“Hi Dr. Scully!” he said in his usual jovial way and I couldn’t help but smile back at him.  
“Today, Christian is home. Recovering in his own bed with his parents beside him all because of something we are all born with. Stem cells. There’s no telling what this therapy can do. We’re finding new developments in adult stem cells every day. By altering the genes in the adult cells, researchers can reprogram the cells to act similarly to embryonic stem cells. This new technique may allow researchers to use reprogrammed cells instead of embryonic stem cells and prevent immune system rejection of the new stem cells.”  
I found myself continuing to rattle on about adult stem cells, hoping that by focusing on the science of altering the cells we already all have, that it would move the controversy away embryonic stem cells. I wasn’t even sure how much of this was in my original speech I just knew I couldn’t stop talking, but as I found myself going past my allotted time, I looked down at the screen and smiled at the young boy as he smiled back at me. His big blue eyes full of so much life. So much hope, “In closing, all I can say is when the world tells you no, when others are telling you there’s no hope and to just stop trying, remember that little voice inside of you. The one that pushed you through medical school, and internships and so much doubt and Don’t. Give. Up.”  
I stepped away from the podium and took a deep breath as the crowd clapped for me. I didn’t expect a standing ovation or anything, but it was nice to be recognized and more than anything it was nice to have the speech behind me. After saying goodbye to the Fearon’s I signed out of the computer, walked to my table and grabbed my belonging before heading straight to the man standing in the back.  
“I think you deterred from a lot of your original speech.” Mulder said as I approached him.  
“I got nervous.” I replied once I was a good foot in front of him, “Did I still get my point across?”  
“I believe the don’t give up point was very accurately stated.”  
Sighing I shook my head, “Let’s go home.”  
“But what about the rest of the conference?”  
“No one will miss me.”  
“Well, we can’t go home.”  
“Why?”  
“I made other plans.”  
Confused, but wanting an explanation I let Mulder lead me back to the hotel room.  
The maid had been there and the bed was made, but there were also two large suitcases I hadn’t seen in years next to the bed.  
“What’s going on?” I asked him point blank.  
“I was going to take you to romantic dinner, no don’t worry I’m not going to bother trying to propose again, and tell you then.”  
“Now you’re honestly scaring me.” I said sitting on the edge of the bed terrified about what he had to tell me, so many scenarios began to run through my head and I was still curious about the two large suitcases which just seemed to appear in the room. I hadn’t seen them since we bought the house and after unpacking all of his “on the lam” clothes tossed them it in the attic.  
Mulder shook his head and smiled, “Nothing to be scared of unless you’re really afraid of long plane rides.” He said before walking over to the closet and pulling out a small red gift bag, his smile remaining as he handed it to me. “Look inside.”  
Doing as he asked looked inside and only saw white tissue paper and a black billfold. Pulling the billfold out I was presented with two first class tickets to Fiji leaving JFK to Nadi February 15, 2008 at eleven am.  
“Mulder…” I said shaking my head in disbelief, “This had to cost a fortune.”  
“You’re worth it.” He said sitting down next to me, “I’ve honestly had this idea for a while now. With everything going on at the hospital you deserve a real vacation. And if you don’t mind the company.”  
I couldn’t stop looking at the tickets “How long?”  
“Two weeks.”  
“But…I can’t take off two weeks…I have patients.”  
“And I had a long talk with Dan…he will cover for you. Everyone knows how much you need this. I had originally planned Hawaii for your birthday, but I think this might be better. Now that I know I can freely fly.”  
“What about your fish?”  
“I told Mrs .Hanson, you know the widow about a mile down the road, where the key was hidden and she will make sure the fish are fed.”  
“But what about our passports?”  
“We were smart enough to get them renewed in 2000 so we still have two years and they’re in one of the suitcases along with your black bikini.”  
“Speedo?” I asked giving him a small wink.  
“No, I’m too old for that now.”  
“So disappointing.” I sighed in a joking like manner and closed the billfold, “I assumed you cancelled my flight home tomorrow.”  
“Yes, unfortunately not in enough time to get a credit.”  
“Still worth it.”  
“I thought so. I had the bags hidden in hotel storage until today. Fifty bucks and they’ll store anything for you. I just wanted to keep them in hidden in case you said no.”  
“Who would say no to Fiji?” I shook my head in disbelief “But, I only have one question for you now.” I said placing the bag on the floor and turning my attention to him, “What chocolate is on the menu this year?”


End file.
